Atlantic Coast

Morning in Kennebunkport

The night was restful; we wake up feeling refreshed and ready to begin our adventure. The cold wind and temperature below 10°C greet us as we leave the hotel, heading straight for a breakfast spot: waffles and French toast, generously filled with apple cinnamon and maple syrup, to start. At some point, the sheriff on board such a van, but it's not for us; they only intend to have breakfast. A few drops fall diagonally, but this doesn't prevent us from taking a stroll through the village, where, around mid-seventeenth century, there was actually a witch hunt with public executions, in which about thirty unfortunate people were hanged. The atmosphere is even more mysterious due to the approach of Halloween, which here represents a true celebratory icon: even though the display of skeletons hanging from the ceiling, skulls used as decorative objects, and pumpkins These can be found everywhere and may seem macabre, but in the region where this tradition originated, they take on a charming aspect and are prepared well in advance. We also notice how the classic Befana figure riding a broom is integrated into the festivities; we spin around our heads while having breakfast, hanging from the chandelier-lamp. For our costumes, it would be at least two months earlier than Halloween. It would be interesting to read about the origin of a symbol belonging to our own culture but also very distant, and only minimally close in recent years, mainly for commercial reasons. We board the VW Jetta rented yesterday at the airport, heading towards Portsmouth on US1. Along the way, we encounter alternating villages surrounded by unhealthy swamps, where the first were built on reclaimed land at the expense of the second. When we reach our destination, the wind is still cool but has stopped raining, and in the distance, we can already see the blue sky. The town consists mainly of wooden houses with gardens facing outwards, a constant feature of the region, where order and precision are evident. We visit the Strawberry Bank Museum, a historic village frozen like museum... where one house (the Goodwin family's) was even moved a mile away, rotating on logs. The others were already in place, further enhanced by gardens and fountains. Inside the houses, you can still see the furnishings of bourgeois families who lived there, providing a glimpse into how aristocratic life was during that era. Other buildings host almost intact artisan workshops. Within each house, a volunteer is always available to provide information, despite the somewhat cool temperature. An interesting fact: in the parking lot opposite the museum, while I am photographing... license plate of a vehicle from New Hampshire on which the motto "live free or die" is displayed, I am approached by an elderly gentleman who seems curious and asks if I am taking photos to issue fines: I reassure him that I am just a harmless tourist. A few steps towards the harbor, which has nothing particularly interesting to say. Still heading north in the direction of Kennebunkport, a pleasant village centered around the harbor, where the Ocean Road borders the waterfront promenade and at some point, a church was built outdoors, even better than many cathedrals! We take a stroll along Ocean View, surrounded by villas belonging to wealthy residents who use them solely as second homes. For lunch, we enjoy the pleasant experience of a restaurant that combines the characteristics of both gastronomy and an osteria in a family-friendly setting, aptly named Cape Porpoise Kitchen. We don't miss the first opportunity to try the lobster roll: chunks of lobster served on a warm bun with appropriate accompaniments, ideal for a tasty but quick lunch. Along the entire coast, and often inside restaurants, you can find inviting lobster icons, an obvious attraction for tourists and not only. There is no doubt that we are in the right place for our culinary ambitions. Geographically speaking, a sign indicates that we are at 43 degrees north latitude; it seems impossible to find ourselves even slightly further south than where we live: the temperature has not exceeded 13° and we know that the average temperatures from here on will remain below zero for several months. We are now in Maine, after leaving Massachusetts and crossing the coast of New Hampshire, which is about twenty miles long. By driving along Highway 95, we reach Portland, a charming town with beautiful Commercial Street which runs alongside the renovated old docks, now used for tourist activities more in line with modern times. Actually, there is still a harbor on the waterfront for mooring fishing boats, where you can see the traps designed to lure and capture the eels. We ask a man who is working on a boat when the fishermen are expected to return: he explains that they usually arrive for dinner, between 4 and 7 pm, but today no one moved because the weather wasn't suitable. In fact, the situation has improved and we have been enjoying a pleasant sun for a couple of hours, but marine life has its own rules and especially doesn't rely on weather forecasts. The streets in the center have been adapted to modern needs, but they still exude history. We continue on Route 295 towards Brunswick to return to Route 1 heading towards... Pemaquid Peninsula and see one of the most famous lighthouses in New England We arrive around 5:30 PM, coinciding with sunset and its beautiful colors.

Sunset in Kennebunkport

The place is very romantic; in fact, a newly married couple is having their wedding photos taken with their friends. the lighthouse and the sunset in the background. The sun reflects on the water. Leaving behind a cobalt sea, the lava rocks slowly converge towards the waves, while the vegetation invites us to anticipate the warm colors that will accompany us in the days to come. We ascend the eastern side of the peninsula on US32 to reach Rockport and then Camden, another small town nestled by the sea: here begins a stretch of coastline with steep cliffs where the waves constantly crash. It seems difficult to find accommodation, as we are at a crossroads between the beauty offered by the ocean and that of the foliage inland. Moreover, it is Saturday evening. We cannot afford to be extravagant and stay at the River House Hotel in Camden, a beautiful and spacious room with two queen beds, managed by a friendly and experienced gentleman who immediately offers us good advice for dinner. Despite risking being monotonous, we order lobster again, this time in its most classic configuration, which involves a careful extraction of the meat from the claws. Everything is accompanied by local beer. We are surprised to find that at 9 pm we were the only customers in the establishment, despite it being Saturday. It is clear that people tend to eat early, and we will notice this even in the following days, when we will be among the last customers to leave the restaurant.

During the afternoon, we stopped at a visitor center near the entrance to Maine, for an experience that highlights the bright civilization of this country, which pays attention to tourists not only as customers, but also as individuals. In addition to the abundant and useful documentation offered to facilitate our stay, the staff provides information on all sorts of topics aimed at fostering contact with the local culture: in particular, they told us that the summer has been particularly hot and dry, which has limited the vibrant colors typical of the season. In this case, the leaves should directly transition from green to brown; the transformation began a couple of weeks ago in Canada and is gradually progressing towards its peak in these latitudes during the second half of next week. Indeed, as we will have the opportunity to see over the coming week, the trees tend to take on their characteristic colors. We can only imagine what we might have seen if the season had been more favorable; perhaps the clear nights would have made it possible to travel without headlights! The abundance of maple trees helps, but it is interesting to note how some branches that are more exposed to the cool night air show yellow and red tufts, while the rest has not yet begun its transformation: all in a multitude of shades that no painter could have imagined so fancifully. Along the coast, the warmer temperatures still show a predominance of green.

Along the road, during the entire journey, we encounter many lifeless animals, hit by cars as they crossed. These are foxes: they are roughly the size of a dog, with long and reddish-brown fur, and markings on their faces that resemble a mask.